


John Deacon Murderer AU

by CrazyEyebrows



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 70s john deacon, 80s john deacon, Adidas, Blood, Gore, Murder, Other, but not really, honestly who even knows, im tagging this how i tagged it on wattpad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 04:07:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17460341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyEyebrows/pseuds/CrazyEyebrows
Summary: This will be a collection of short stories, based around an AU I got from "omldeaky" on Instagram.  The AU has an edit that they made, which can be found on their profile (tw for gore and overall scary things). Along with picture edits and drawings made by "johndiscodeacy".  The stories are all made in good fun, and I am in no way trying to  insinuate or assume that John Deacon is a bad person/has committed heinous crimes. These are all made in collaboration with these two specifically, we'd love to see if any of you wrote/drew/edited/etc for the AU!!The first story takes place directly after Johns second victim.John is running out of time, and what will happen when his roommate starts to put two and two together?





	John Deacon Murderer AU

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title taken from a poem by W.B Yeats.  
> This one was written hastily a while ago, the next ones will be written better aa a a a a

John stares down emptily at his gloved hands.

Slowly, he pulls them off and put the stained latex in the garbage, then catching a glance at himself in the mirror.

 "Oh, dear. Fuck me." He mumbles, running the hot water tap. He admits, he got a little out of hand, but until he noticed the long, thick splattered lines of blood on his face, it hadn't seemed like an issue. Now hurriedly scrubbing the pink off of his skin before his roommate gets home, everything might be more of a problem.

John scratches and wipes at his face diligently, mentally reprimanding himself for getting so out of hand. It would only be his second thrill, but he's already ruined it and pulled himself out of the euphoria that is adrenaline. Eventually, the pink seems unnoticeable against his irritated skin, and he calls a day on that. He hasn't even changed out of his clothes! John notices this small dent in his plan to 'not be caught', and hurries to pick up the trashcan and run to his room.

It's a quick blur of things that happen all at once. 

John is vigorously trying to undo his button up dress shirt, when he hears the slam of the front door. John's mouth dries up.

_He told Brian he had nothing to do today._

_That he'd be home all day.  
That Brian could just come into his room when he got home and they could make plans_.

In that moment, John hated himself. He loathed the deepest crevice of who he was, and struggled faster to get the shirt off.

 "John?" Brian yelled, obviously still in the front room. John didn't have any time, he couldn't fiddle with the buttons anymore. With a grimace, John pulled a disgustingly bright red jumper over his shirt. 

 "Yeah Bri, in my room." He answered the call, trying his hardest to steady his shaking voice. 

It didn't work. 

Brian was opening his door in a moments time.

 "Are you okay? You sound like you've been crying." Usually, at literally any time, in any problem, he would be so grateful for Brian, being the concerned, sweet flatmate he was.

 "Yes." He nods his head, and as Brian walks in, about to speak, he hears the sirens.

 _'I need to leave'_ Is Johns only thought.

"I wonder what that's about.." Brian looks at John, and his eyebrows furrow. 

"Two questions. Why've you got the bathroom rubbish? It's not trash day is it? And, it's so fucking hot out, aren't you dying?" Brian accentuates his question by grabbing his shirt collar and fluttering the fabric against his skin. 

 _'So soft... scarless... beautiful...'_  John dazes slightly, staring at Brian's neck and hand for a long moment, before realizing he's to respond.

 "Oh.. I'm just feeling sick is all. Nothing too bad, just something I ate for lunch." 

 _'Or, rather,'_  John mentally muses, ' _what I hadn't had for lunch. What I'd done in place of eating lunch. **Oh god.'**_

The thought makes John feel sick, now that he's fully crashed down. He feels like running into Brian's arms, heaving and crying, and begging for forgiveness.

He keeps his bloodied and mud caked Adidas firmly in place.  Brian nods a little, and starts talking as he walks away,

"I'll check the radio to see what's going on, then we can talk about going out or not."

Brian seemed genuinely disappointed, and while it hurt John to see him like that, he was thankful Brian had left him some peace. 

Once again, John was left to his own devices. He forgone the idea of changing, and immediately ran to his window. John struggled to open it, not realizing how loud the rattling of the glass and wood was. He did get the window open, and one leg out the fire escape. He nearly did it, but then,

 "A dead woman, barely a block from our-.... John? Why are you half out the window?" Brian looked shocked, and John's chest tightened around his heart. 

John's eyes went wide, and glossy, and his mouth hung open as he tried to find an excuse.

 "John?" Brian tries again, voice obviously starting to choke. John stays in the window. He stares at Brian for a long moment.

 "Brian." John says as firmly, and stably as he can. Brian can't answer, and John continues.

"I am going to go out this window. I am going to leave. Okay?"

 "Don't go." Brian says immediately, and he takes a step towards the window. He looks conflicted, but keeps talking.

"I.. uhm.." His eyes drift to Johns shoe.

"I'll.. Um.. I'll call up Fred and Rog. They'll.. They'll love to watch movies.. with the fireplace going." John's eyes widen impossibly further, and he stares Brian down.

Three minutes pass, and he brings himself back in fully with a small nod.

 "Okay."

 "It's going to be okay John." Brian steps closer. John steps closer as well.

 "You.. You promise?"

Brian pulls him in tightly for a hug.

 ".... Promise."


End file.
